


Dinners, Dates, and Something In Between

by Arcane_Apparition



Series: OTP: Gentle Giants [4]
Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Date Night, Dorks in Love, F/M, Fluff, i just wanted...soft content, rating will increase, this was just an excuse to write some deep!romance Nate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:42:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27734764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arcane_Apparition/pseuds/Arcane_Apparition
Summary: Dating is difficult when work and life keep getting in the way, so Nate decides to take matters into his own hands.
Relationships: Female Detective/Nathaniel "Nate" Sewell
Series: OTP: Gentle Giants [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2042041
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Dinners, Dates, and Something In Between

**Author's Note:**

> This started as an answer to a prompt and became....a lot more words than intended. I just wanted an excuse to write deep!romanced Nate honestly.

Abby leans back in her chair with a groan, pushing backwards enough to tilt the entire seat back. Between the mountain of paperwork that didn’t seem to be getting any smaller -no matter _how_ much time she spent on it- and the constant glare from her computer screen, a headache had long since settled behind her eyes. 

Her shift was supposed to be over _hours_ ago, but a wave of unfinished case reports that Captain Sung insisted absolutely could _not_ wait until Monday got dumped on her lap just as she’d been getting ready to leave. And any other day -any other _night_ , she wouldn’t have minded the extra work. She’d long since gotten used to pulling extra shifts, putting in more hours than was probably _healthy_ -partially because she still hasn’t gotten the hang of telling someone ‘no’, but still.

But of course it has to be _tonight_ : when she was supposed to be going out to dinner with Nate. The same dinner date they’d already rescheduled three times now -early in the evening because while _she_ had the day off tomorrow, _he_ has a meeting in the morning to follow up the mission that had been the _second_ interruption a few weeks back. This was the first chunk of free time for the two of them that actually aligned, but of course the universe seems to be hell-bent on ruining any chances they might have at getting any time together.

She’d given herself a window of two hours -two hours to dig in and get as much done as possible, so she could leave at a somewhat decent time and have enough wiggle room to go home and change before they were supposed to meet. But that cushion is long gone, and she’s barely made a dent.

Begrudgingly admitting defeat that this date _isn’t_ going to happen tonight, she leans over to dig her phone out of her desk drawer. While she knows him well enough by now to know he won’t be irritated -far from it; he knows how much her job means to her, and it’s certainly not just work at the station making dating difficult- she can’t shake that guilty feeling worming its way into her chest. Guilt and _frustration_ ; she just wants _one night_ , why is that such an impossible thing to ask?

With a heavy sigh, she hits the speed dial on her phone.

It rings. A few times. Enough that she begins to wonder if he let his phone die again -or ‘misplaced it’ as he seems suspiciously good at doing. The call finally connects at the last second though, followed by a long pause. She hears shuffling -soft, frustrated complaints from the other end that has her struggling to keep a smile off her face.

“Abby?” Nate’s voice finally comes through, sounding uncertain as if he isn’t sure he even managed to answer.

She loses her fight, breaking into a full blown grin at his obvious annoyance. “You know,” She settles back a little further, an arm resting behind her head, “You’d think you’d get to the point you don’t have to fight with your phone all the time. You’ve had it for awhile now.”

“It would seem that this is to be a never-ending battle,” He laughs. There’s more shuffling -fabric on fabric, “Is everything alright? I was just getting ready to leave to meet you.”

That guilt is back, wiping the smile from her face and she sighs.

“Something’s come up.” It’s not a question. She can hear the mild disappointment in his voice. The guilt gets a little heavier.

She pinches the bridge of her nose, “Nate I’m so sorry. This- I thought I’d be able to finish this in time-”

“ _Rouhi_ , it’s alright. There’s no need to apologize.” He cuts in before she can ramble for too long, “I know you wouldn’t stay if it wasn’t important.”

She has to bite her tongue to keep from pointing out that this paperwork didn’t seem to be important to _anybody_ besides Captain Sung. She watches the ceiling instead, counting the tiles there as she slowly twirls her chair. “ _Rouhi._ ” She repeats, copying his inflection as best as she can but stumbling on the pronunciation, “That’s a new one.”

This had become a long-standing game between them. She’s by no means an expert in languages -she knows bits and pieces, fragments from failed attempts to learn that life always interrupted, giving her just enough knowledge to pass-by in a small handful. But Nate, with his plethora of knowledge, seemed to enjoy that, and always had a new term of endearment at the ready, knowing her well enough to know she’d go out of her way to learn what it meant -tucking it away in her mind for later.

“Care to take a guess?” She doesn’t have to see him to know he’s smiling. He enjoys her curiosity in languages, appreciating her interest to learn more, even if she wasn’t the quickest student to work with. He never seemed to mind.

“I’ve got an idea,” She laughs, “But I’ll keep my guess to myself to spare the embarrassment when I’m wrong.”

“I would never tease you about that.” He sounds genuinely bothered at the thought, and while she knows there’s truth there, she still isn’t going to cave. Taking shots in the dark when it comes to languages was intimidating with somebody like him.

“I know that, but _I’d_ still be embarrassed.”

“Then I’ll let it remain a mystery.” _Now_ there’s a teasing edge to his voice and she scoffs.

“Why? Because I won’t guess?” She tries to sound annoyed but knows she’s doing a terrible job hiding her own amusement, “Not even a hint? An idea what it means?”

He laughs, “I feel as though that’s cheating.”

“It is not! I still have to narrow down the language!” She defends. Considering all she’ll have to go on is her own attempt at spelling, she feels as though it’s a fair request. “Please?”

He hums -drawing the pause out to the point she’s rolling her eyes at the dramatics, before he finally chuckles. “It means ‘my soul’.”

Despite his regular usage of endearments, learning the actual meanings behind them still left her speechless at times. His level of adoration, while not _unwelcome_ , is still something she has to wrap her head around and gets caught off guard with. She still can’t understand how anyone, let alone someone like _him_ , could feel that level of affection towards someone like her.

“Flatterer.” She teases once she’s sure she has her voice back, choosing to ignore the slight flutter in her chest for the time being, and grateful that he isn’t in the room to hear it.

“I think I prefer ‘romantic’.”

“I’m sure you would.” She laughs, her frazzled nerves settling once again as a comfortable silence settles between them. The sound of squeaking wheels catches her attention and she looks towards the doorway of her office, watching as one of the evening cleaning crew members wander by and she offers them a slight wave. She’d officially been in the building long enough to see _three_ shift changes in the volunteers. “I’m sorry again,” She knows she doesn’t _need_ to -he doesn’t want her apologizing anyways, but she can’t ignore the well of disappointment. “I really thought I’d be able to get out of here earlier.”

“As I said, there’s no need to apologize. There will be other dates.” He assures, an unspoken promise and damn it she’s smiling again. “Though I will admit, I’m worried about how exhausted you must be. How many days have you stayed late this week?”

She purses her lips, knowing full-well that he isn’t going to like the answer: it’s been everyday this week. She shows up just as the sun’s rising, and leaving well after it’s set. Her pause seems to be enough of an answer for him because she hears him sigh.

“ _Abby._ ”

“I know,” She huffs, “You don’t have to say it.”

“You’re overworking yourself. You’re going to burn yourself out.” He continues anyways and she grits back the urge to groan. He’s coming from a place of concern, she knows that, and normally the worry he has for her would be appreciated, but not when it comes to work. It’s not like they have a lot of hands at the station -if she’s needed to stay behind to help out, then that’s what she’ll do.

Still, she wants to ease his worrying. “I’ll be fine, I promise. Besides, running on fumes is my specialty, remember?”

“That will only last you for so long.” He points out -and he’s _right_ , she just won’t admit that to _him_. “When do you think you’ll be home tonight?”

She raises a brow at that, glancing at the clock on her wall. She’d already burnt some time talking to him -time she definitely doesn’t regret because it was a much needed and enjoyed break. “I don’t know, a couple hours at least. Why?”

“Well, if it’s alright with you, would you mind if I came by your apartment?”

“Don’t you have a meeting?”

“I do, but I’d like to see you all the same.” His words bring that stupid little flutter back, and this time it doesn’t want to leave even when she tries to brush it off. If it was anybody else asking, her immediate answer would be ‘no’. She’s exhausted -she knows she _looks_ exhausted. Her short hair is absolutely sticking up in every direction considering the amount of times she’s run her hands through it today, and she’s sure the dark rings under her eyes look more like bruises at this point.

But it wasn’t just anybody asking, it was _him_ , and the temptation to see him, even if just for a few hours, wins out against any flitting concerns she has about how she looks.

“You know,” She starts, keeping her voice as level as possible, “I _did_ give you that spare key as a sort of silent agreement that you’re welcome to come by whenever.”

“Is it wrong of me to want you to extend the invitation anyways? I enjoy hearing that you want me,” Another pause, and she’d bet her savings and her car that he’s _smirking_ , “To come over, of course.”

‘ _Right. That’s exactly what he meant.’_ She walked into that teasing. She can feel heat creeping up her neck, her cheeks warm. It’s frustrating he manages to pull reactions like this from her and doesn’t even need to be in the _room_ to accomplish it.

“Of course I want to see you, you know that.” She grumbles, embarrassed and flustered -neither feeling getting any better when he actually has the nerve to _laugh_. “Keep it up though and I might change my mind.”

It’s a bluff and they both know it. Still, despite his chuckling, she hears him clear his throat. “I apologize, _jaan_.”

“Sure, you really sound sorry.”

“Is it alright, though?” He asks, more serious this time. “I don’t want to impose if you’re tired.”

“It’s fine,” She smiles. The idea of seeing him after work is definitely a good incentive to finish her work as quickly as possible –not a fact she’d ever _admit_ , but the sentiment is still there. “As long as it won’t cause you problems.”

“It won’t. Be safe coming home, love. See you after your shift.”

“See you.” She ends the call, smiling at the dark screen before unceremoniously dropping her phone back in her desk drawer. The conversation with him –and the prospect of seeing him—was the exact pick-me-up she’d needed. With a clearer head and a jump to her energy levels, she sets back to work.

~~

The walk home proves to be about as unpleasant as the rest of her day had been going. She’s halfway back to her apartment when the skies decide to open up. Not a thunderstorm, thankfully, but raining hard enough that she’s _irritated_ and kicking herself for not taking her car to work.

“‘Oh it’s a nice morning, I’ll just get some air!’” She grumbles to herself as she half jogs around the corner, gripping the edge of the hood on her jacket to keep it up, “Real fucking brilliant choice there.”

Her back is sore from slumping at her desk all day and she’s soaked through every layer of clothes she has on, but glancing up to her window as she reaches her building to see soft light filtering through the curtain is enough to chase any remaining annoyance out of her system. She does try to contain her smile for the most part as she trudges her way up the stairs, barely keeping herself from taking them two at a time. She _feels_ giddy, but would definitely prefer not to look the part. 

“Hey Nate!’ She calls as she lets herself in, knowing she doesn’t really need to, considering he probably heard her coming before she even made it to the door. She stays on her little doormat as she kicks her shoes off, grumbling again as she has to work to peel her socks off. She’ll have to change, but at least this way some of the mess will be contained to one spot. Glancing around, she freezes with one foot in the air and a sock half off. 

None of her lights were on, in favor of candles instead -the same candles she’d normally light if she was spending the night in. Her mail -the same mail she’d been neglecting to grab for a couple days now- sits in a neat little pile on the nearby hall table. The little piles of clutter that had slowly been accumulating over the past few days, when she’s too tired to do much else than walk in and drop everything where she stands, are nowhere to be seen.

And something smells _really_ good.

“I’m in here.” Nate’s voice calls from the kitchen. She follows the sound, wet clothes forgotten and wearing only a single sock, her curiosity piqued. 

She pokes her head around the doorway into the kitchen. “Nate?” 

His back is to her, tending to something on the stove. Stepping further in to peek around him, she sees he has every pot and pan she owns on the stove top -not really much of a feat considering she only owns _four_ \- and he turns to face her with a smile so bright it practically lights up the room. His hair is tied back, a few rogue strands falling loose and curling around his face. With a dish towel thrown over one shoulder and his sleeves rolled up he looks unfairly attractive and - _at home_ , as if he was always meant to be here _._

Choosing to ignore the warmth in her chest at that realization, she makes a show of looking around her kitchen instead. “What’re you doing?”

“Making dinner for us.” The smile on his face is replaced with a look of concern as he steps towards her, “You’re soaked, did you not take your car today?”

“Oh no, I did. I just figured I’d stand out in the street and get all wet before coming inside.” She grins as he rolls his eyes, and she takes that moment to take in the rest of the kitchen. Fresh food and different ingredients are spread across the countertop. “Did you go _grocery shopping_?”

“I did.” The smile is back again, more playful this time, “I didn’t have much of a choice, there wasn’t much to be made with instant coffee grounds and what I _think_ was once an onion.” He gives her fridge a mildly concerned look, and she decides it’s best not to correct him that she thinks it was a tomato, “Was I right to guess that you haven’t eaten yet?”

It’s a fair assumption -her meals when she gets busy quickly goes from pastries from Haley’s to a handful of crackers and whatever amount of coffee she can get away with drinking before her hands start shaking. 

She finally looks back at him. “I- No I haven’t, but-” She trips over her words, her mind racing faster than her mouth can keep up with, “Nate you didn’t- You didn’t have to go through all of this,” She waves around the room, “I didn’t know you coming over meant you’d feel like you had to go to lengths like this.”

“I know I didn’t have to, I wanted to.” He says simply, reaching out and brushing his thumb against her cheek, swiping away a stray droplet of rain. She leans into the touch all the same. “I don’t get to brush up on my cooking skills all that often, and _somebody_ has to make sure you take proper care of yourself if you aren’t going to.”

He’s teasing. She knows he is. And normally she’d tease back -use sarcasm to brush off any genuine worry. But the touching gesture of it all leaves her struggling to find her words. _Nobody_ has done anything like this for her before -and yet, here he is, doing it because he can. Because he _wants_ to.

The flutter is back. Stronger now, a little tug on her heart that leaves her reeling. She knows he can hear it, and that just makes it all worse. She has to take a breath, her eyes stinging and threatening to water and that’s certainly the last thing she wants right now. Instead she smiles at him, something wide and goofy, before opening her arms as if in invitation. “I think you should get a hug for all the effort you put into this.”

“And _I_ think you should go get changed before you get sick.”

He doesn’t make a move to get any closer -seeming more than ready to take a step back if she tries to close the distance, and for a moment they’re at a standstill: him eyeing her in amusement and her standing there with her arms still spread. She wiggles her fingers for added effect, brows raising as she bounces on the balls of her feet, water dripping onto the kitchen floor.

It’s him that moves first, catching her off guard as he swoops in and closes the gap for a kiss instead. Something light, sweet and chaste that still manages to steal her breath from her lungs. When he pulls away she’s half tempted to follow, nearly swaying on the spot. “That’s- That’s _cheating_ -”

“I’m wounded that you would accuse me of such a thing.” His voice is full of mock hurt, a playful glint in his eyes that just makes her groan. She moves to hug him anyways, considering it deserved payback, but doesn’t even get to take a full step before he’s gone, vampiric speed putting him behind her before her eyes can register he’s gone. His hands rest on her shoulders, gently turning her and guiding her out. “Go, you’re drowning the floor.”

“It’s _my_ floor, what does it matter?” She continues to argue even as she lets him guide her out, because she’s getting cold and getting changed sounds nice, she just won’t _admit_ that. Once they’re passed the threshold of the kitchen she turns on her heel, grinning at him. “If I said I was going to take a shower, could I convince you to join me?”

He stills then, watches her, and for half a second she thinks she’s won - won _what,_ she isn’t even sure anymore, she’s just enjoying being as benignly difficult as possible. If she got a shower with Nate out of that, then at least it was a fight well worth it.

He leans in, and for half a second she’s expecting another kiss. She moves to meet him, but suddenly he’s moved away and pressing a soft kiss to the side of her head instead. “As tempting as that offer is,” His voice rumbles in his chest and his breath is warm against her face, and suddenly the shiver racing down her spine has nothing to do with her clothes, “I’m afraid I’ll have to decline this time.”

_This time_ \- that rattles in her head a bit, making her smile until she forces herself to frown as he pulls away. A dramatic sigh and she’s turning around, throwing her hands up in the air, “Fine, abandon me. I see how it is.” She calls over her shoulder, “A shower with me would have been more fun than being holed up in the kitchen though!”

She hears him laughing even after the bathroom door is closed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, kudos/comments are always appreciated!


End file.
